AT LUNCH WITH: Sheila Lukins

Only in the Kitchen Are There No Letdowns

By ALEX WITCHEL

Published: July 23, 1997

SHEILA LUKINS fits best in the kitchen.

When she walks through the other rooms in her sprawling apartment at the Dakota, the ceilings are so very tall and she is so very short (five feet) you can easily imagine the place as a duplex. The formality of those rooms, despite their abundance of chintz, seems at odds with this intense, almost austere presence in black pants, white shirt and dark hair.

But in the kitchen, the woman who was a co-founder of the Silver Palate food shop in Manhattan, who conceived the recipes for five cookbooks that have more than 5.5 million copies in print, seems to grow. In spite of the requisite equipment -- professional grill, professional stove -- the room feels personal enough to be a teen-ager's bedroom. A picture of Elvis, a pitcher filled with sunflowers and two stuffed Campbell Kids dolls reside on the windowsill. On the counter is an array of bottles filled with olive oil, some greenish, some gold, some full, some not, clustered the way other women gather perfumes on the vanity; all at the ready, the perfect one waiting, to suit her mood. Or more important, her mouth.

''I feel so cozy in my kitchen,'' she says. ''It's so familiar.''

Cozy, however, is not the feeling Ms. Lukins exudes. It's more tense. Intense. Settled among the chintz in the living room, she shoots up when asked a simple question about why she covers the pan while frying chicken. Trekking down the hallway, she summons her assistant, Laurie Griffith, with an almost grim determination to prove, in stereo, that the chicken will not turn soggy. O.K., O.K. It was just a question.

''I take everything very seriously,'' Ms. Lukins says.

You would think that at 54, having established herself as a pre-eminent home chef and cookbook author (co-author of the Silver Palate books with her former partner, Julee Rosso), with her two daughters grown and happy and an apartment as big as Nebraska, she could take a little chicken in stride.

But things are not all they seem. In 1991, while Ms. Lukins was in her kitchen cooking a dinner for a charity event, she developed an excruciating headache, which caused her to lie down. She woke up in the hospital after suffering a cerebral hemorrhage so severe she was expected to die. The entire left side of her body was paralyzed and she developed an infection in her skull, which required a second operation. Finally, she landed at the Burke Rehabilitation Center in White Plains, where she spent three months relearning how to feed and dress herself.

The hemorrhage came while Ms. Lukins was in the midst of her first solo effort, ''All Around the World Cookbook'' (Workman, 1994), and although she could barely walk while recovering, she insisted on traveling to 33 countries to conduct research, accompanied by Ms. Griffith or her husband, Richard Lukins. She was in such bad shape that when she went to food markets in India or Morocco, she jokes, ''they didn't know whether to ask me for money or give me money.''

Still, she finished the book only three months past deadline. She then embarked on her newest, ''U.S.A. Cookbook'' (Workman, $19.95), which she describes as a celebration of American regional cooking. It was published in April, and 255,000 copies are already in print.

Yes, the story is a triumph, but at a price. Though Ms. Lukins can walk by herself now, her gait is a bit lopsided. She has not regained full use of her left hand, despite an experimental treatment at Baylor University in Houston, which fitted her for a wire-mesh glove that gives electric shocks to stimulate the nerve endings. And she and her husband have separated. Suddenly, tense makes sense.

''You ask me any question and I'll answer the way I answer,'' she proclaims.

Fair enough. Is it time for lunch yet?

Ms. Lukins and Ms. Griffith have prepared a gorgeous spread on the kitchen table, all from ''U.S.A. Cookbook'' recipes, and it tastes as good as it looks. It is almost impossible not to eat the entire plate of deviled eggs. Pulled pork in a burnished red sauce is also wonderful, served with homemade Parker House rolls, potato salad, picnic slaw and homemade bread-and-butter pickles. How Ms. Lukins stays so tiny is a mystery.

There's a smile. ''Both Laurie and I taste,'' she says. ''We don't eat that much. When I'm traveling, though, I do what it takes, and sometimes that means arches, if you know what I mean.'' The smile gets bigger. ''They have great french fries.''

She serves herself picnic slaw. Did she use a mandoline to get the vegetables so thin?

''No,'' she says emphatically. ''I cut with a knife. I don't much go for gadgets. I have a Waring blender, coffee maker, juicer and an ice-cream maker. I'm pared down. We just test everything like crazy. I will kill myself to get a recipe right.''

She will?

''Sheila is the Rodney Dangerfield of food,'' says Clark Wolf, a food and restaurant consultant in New York whose recipe for bruschetta is in ''The New Basics Cookbook'' (Workman, 1989). ''She didn't get no respect. Because she and Julee wrote books that were fun and easy and accessible and sold millions of copies, all the food historians whose books sell 6,000 copies got very cranky.

''Sheila made a significant contribution for women who want to make a special meal and still be at the office at 9 the next morning. But it's taken a long time to get respect, as populist things do.''

Even more populist than her books is Ms. Lukins's position as the food editor of Parade magazine, with a readership of 83 million, a job she inherited from Julia Child in 1986 and shared with Ms. Rosso until 1991. When Ms. Lukins ran a contest for best one-pot meal in 1995, she got 15,000 entries -- and tested most of them. The recipe for the winner, Wisconsin Cassoulet, which is made with maple syrup and brown sugar, is included in ''U.S.A. Cookbook.''

In a telephone interview, Julia Child said: ''Sheila Lukins is a very, very good cook. I'm a home cook, too, so I think they're the best.'' While Miss Child said that she owned all of Ms. Lukins's cookbooks, she hastened to add: ''I only use my own. But Sheila is right at the top of her career, a tremendous success. She should be very proud of herself.''

Sheila Lukins was born in Philadelphia, grew up in Westport, Conn., and graduated from New York University with a degree in art education. When her husband's security guard business took him to London in the early 1970's, she went, too, studying at the Cordon Bleu while doing freelance graphic design for theatrical productions. The couple moved to Paris for a year, where she continued her studies.

After returning to New York, she opened the Other Woman Catering Company. Ms. Rosso, then an advertising executive, hired Ms. Lukins to cater a corporate breakfast. The two joined forces in 1977 and rented a Columbus Avenue storefront for $400 a month, and Ms. Lukins spent her days cooking Silver Palate dishes in her Dakota kitchen and running them over to the store. In 1988, the pair sold the business, which, besides the cookbooks, spawned a line of prepared foods like salad dressings and chutneys.

Last spring, Ms. Lukins signed on with United Airlines to upgrade its economy class meals, devising 17 regional entrees from her ''U.S.A. Cookbook,'' including Shaker cranberry brisket and backyard barbecued roast beef. Robert Sobczewski, manager of on-board service for United, says: ''Our food ratings are significantly up. They have exceeded our highest expectations.''

What is most important to Ms. Lukins about the ''U.S.A. Cookbook,'' she says, is that ''it's about local ingredients, American ingredients.'' She continues: ''There is no foie gras, and not a drop of lemon grass. I ate in diners and luncheonettes. When we went to Louisiana we didn't go to New Orleans. We went to Lafayette and danced with boys named Doris, eating in zydeco clubs.''

For dessert, she has made chocolate pudding with homemade whipped cream. ''Just a bite,'' she orders, knowing it will turn into more. It is spectacular.

The phone rings. It is Ms. Lukins's publicity agent, checking in. The author is on a short break from a daunting three-month book tour that is taking her everywhere, from bookstores to food fairs in 40 American cities. ''Ever since I was sick, I really don't travel alone,'' she says. ''I check into some hotels at 1 A.M. and have to get up at 4 A.M. to do a 5 A.M. TV show. I would say I need company for moral support alone, but the physicality is just impossible.''

She looks out the kitchen window for a few minutes without speaking. She looks as though she might cry.

''I wrote about my illness in Parade and got letters from thousands of people who needed help,'' she says. ''I sent a number of people to my program at Baylor. Those people are better now. I can only imagine that is why I got sick. To help other people. Why else would someone get sick at the height of their career, the height of their family? When I was in a wheelchair, one man wouldn't let me in his store. You can't imagine how lucky we are when we are whole. I was never empathic before. I am now.''

But did she have to push herself quite so hard and quite so fast to finish her ''All Around the World Cookbook?'' Why didn't she ease up a little?

''My career has never let me down,'' she says softly. ''It's the only thing in my life, except my children, that hasn't. Everything else has, including my health. Work is a constant. It gave me my independence back. I hated being dependent on everybody else when I was ill. I was so driven because I couldn't stand it. I used to dream I was fine, and then I'd wake up and it would be so horrible. I had such a great life, and I didn't want to get better and have a different life. I wanted not only to be alive but to have the same kind of life.''

Her voice is rough. ''If having a brain hemorrhage didn't kill me, then nothing will kill me,'' she says. ''It was completely a fluke. I must have had 20 M.R.I.'s since then and they're completely normal, as if nothing had happened.''

Beside being the year of her illness, 1991 was also the last time she spoke to Ms. Rosso. In a much-publicized fallout, Ms. Rosso, who moved to Michigan after the sale of the Silver Palate and started a newsletter, wrote to her subscribers that the publication was late because of Ms. Lukins's illness. Ms. Lukins was not connected to the newsletter, and when she protested, Ms. Rosso claimed that an assistant had written the comments and signed her name without her knowing it.

Ms. Lukins sighs. ''It was really unfortunate for it to end so unpleasantly,'' she says. ''It was so unnecessary, so silly. But there was no question when we did 'The New Basics' that that would be our last project together. We both wanted out of the Silver Palate, to have our own lives.''

Ms. Lukins says she is not sure what her next book will be. She is still in love with her ''U.S.A.'' food, as evidenced by an exploration of her refrigerator.

Finally, a laugh. ''Mine is not a chef's book,'' she says. ''It's a Sheila book.''

These recipes are adapted from Sheila Lukins's ''U.S.A. Cookbook.''

All-American Deviled Eggs

Total time: 45 minutes

6 large eggs

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 to 2 dashes Tabasco sauce, to taste

Salt, to taste

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon snipped fresh chives

3 tablespoons mayonnaise

Paprika, for garnish

Whole fresh chives, for garnish.

1. Rinse eggs with warm water, and place in a small saucepan. Cover with cold water, place the pan over medium-high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer, and cook for exactly 13 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water and peel. Cool in the refrigerator, loosely covered, for 15 minutes.

2. Halve eggs lengthwise, and carefully scoop out yolks. Place yolks in a bowl, and mash with a fork. Add mustard, Tabasco, salt, pepper and snipped chives. Stir in mayonnaise.

3. Fill each egg white with about 1 1/2 teaspoons of the egg-yolk mixture and dust the top with paprika. Arrange in a spoke design on a platter; garnish with whole chives.

3. In a large (6- to 8- quart) ovenproof casserole or flameproof roasting pan, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add meat, and brown on all sides, about 8 minutes a side. Remove meat and wipe out casserole.

4. Place a rack in the bottom of the casserole. Put the meat on the rack, and cover with 2 1/2 cups barbecue sauce. Cover and cook for about 4 hours, basting occasionally, until the internal temperature of the thickest part of the meat reaches 150 to 180 degrees. Remove from oven, and set aside to cool.

5. Gently heat remaining barbecue sauce. When meat is cool enough to handle, trim and discard fat. Shred meat coarsely by hand, or pull it with two forks. Put shredded meat in a large bowl, and toss with warmed sauce. Serve on rolls or slices of white bread, with coleslaw and bread-and-butter pickles on the side.

1. In a large heavy pot, place the tomatoes with their juices, molasses, honey, tomato paste, garlic, bay leaves, cumin, black pepper and red pepper flakes. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for about 1 1/2 hours, until very thick.

2. Add the water and vinegar, and return to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for an additional 1 1/2 hours. Remove and discard bay leaves, and season with salt. Cool, cover and refrigerate overnight.

Double Dip of Chocolate Pudding

Total time: 30 minutes, plus chilling

1/2 cup sugar

3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

2 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch

Pinch of salt

1 large egg plus 2 yolks

2 cups milk

4 ounces best-quality semisweet chocolate, chopped

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 teaspoon instant espresso powder

1 teaspoon vanilla extract.

1. Combine sugar, cocoa powder, cornstarch and salt.

2. Whisk egg and yolks together in a small bowl. Add sugar mixture, and whisk to a smooth paste. Set aside.

5. Scrape the pudding into four individual serving dishes or one bowl. Cool to room temperature, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate until chilled, 1 hour or more. Serve with cream, whipped or plain.